I grow weary of living.

When I first began my new life as the Reaper, I was ecstatic. For once, I told myself, I would finally be able to get back at the world. Any who had ever wronged me would finally be brought justice. For a very long time, that is what my existent was reduced to. Killing any and all who so much as looked at me funny on the streets. Nobody knew my face, but the world all had the same thought: "Who's next?" One could argue I made the world a better place with my reign of terror. Since nobody knew who the Reaper was, everyone seemed to treat one another with kindness out of the blue. Crime rates plummeted, greedy politicians resigned from office. For the longest time, world peace seemed very possible because of my actions.

But my actions weighed heavy on my conscience. While I was eager to exact my revenge, I was no heartless monster. Each and every kill I made slowly began a downward spiral of self loathing and hatred. What I once saw as a miracle and a gift, I now see as a curse. The Reaper who came before me, the woman who trained me, warned me of this very thing. She felt the same way I do now, and I was too deafened by my bloodlust to understand. To become the Reaper is to be hated. You will never truly have companionship, for all you touch die. You can never tell a living soul of your identity, for all who hear it shall die. To be a Reaper is to experience true loneliness.

I've tried ending my own life many times. I've tied more nooses than I can count, and yet I knew the outcome would be the same. The rope would snap. The blade at my wrist would shatter. I found myself incapable of jumping off a building. The car just about to hit me would instantaneously halt. The only life I couldn't take was my own.

The only way the Reaper can pass on is to have a successor. I knew this right from the start, but the thought of it seemed far too cruel. Why would I ever willingly put someone in the same position as myself? I can only imagine this is how those who came before me felt. They had had enough of the their silent suffering. They would find any way out of it, even if it meant subjecting someone else to their pain. My master taught me how to summon an apprentice, should I ever feel the pain was too great to bear. As much as it hurts me to do so, I feel I have hit that point. I need it to end.

The way the summoning works is a mystery to me. When the Reaper has hit their limit, they can consciously send out a call to the world. It's like a beacon of sorts, calling those who are deemed worthy. How one is deemed worthy, I do not know. Those who are called will know how to find me. They won't understand how they know, but they will know nonetheless. I know I felt the call, yet didn't quite understand what it was. It was like a constant buzzing in my ear, slowly drawing me to the place my former master lived.

As I write this journal entry, I await for the one chosen to be successor. I shall train them in the art of killing. I will try my best to desensitize them to death, just as my master did for me. However, I shall choose an apprentice carefully. Those who are eager to kill will not be chosen. They must truly abhor the thought of killing, yet see it as a necessary evil. I will wait another eternity for the right candidate if need be.




Okay so, welcome to my interest check! I'm hoping my little intro gave a small insight into the mood of the story ^^'

The premise is quite simple. I'd be the playing the role of the Reaper, who is exactly what he sounds like. He kills and escorts people to the afterlife, kind of like a supernatural population control. However, his hundreds of years of service has left him a shadow of his former self. It has made him a miserable husk of a man, wishing only for his own death. He isn't the first Reaper. All before him have hit that breaking point eventually. When a Reaper hits the point of wanting to die, they can send out a signal. How that signal works, not even they know. What they do know is only those worthy of becoming the Reaper can hear this signal. It's like a buzzing in their ear, or a longing. They will feel drawn to the Reaper's location, and will find themselves travelling there. All the while, they won't understand exactly why.

So basically, I'd be the Reaper. You'd be his new apprentice.

Given the nature of this roleplay, I should probably mention that it's 18+, or at least that's how I tagged it. I won't ask how old you are, but the roleplay does contain some dark themes such as suicide. Not to mention, lots of death in general. If you are squeamish, or are just not into that sort of thing, then this roleplay isn't quite for you ^^;

I'm not the most active poster on the planet. I'm almost always around, be it on site or discord. However, like any other person, I have dips in motivation. I will be very straightforward and honest about it, and I only ask that you do the same. That being said if you find yourself wanting my discord, just shoot me a PM. Messages on site work just fine too.

Last time I made an interest check, I had nine people show up in a span of 2 hours. To avoid things like that again, this roleplay will be first come first serve. Leave a message ON THIS POST AND @ ME WITH IT. If you send me a PM first, it will be deleted.

Well, I'm not sure what else to add! If this idea happens to tickle your fancy, let me know!